


Butterflies

by loved_ice



Series: Prompts Galore [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loved_ice/pseuds/loved_ice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-connecting Tumblr prompts: Hartwin edition </p>
<p>Includes: A Harry Hart who loves romance novels, an Eggsy who clings, a Merlin who isn't paid enough, a drugged Eggsy, a soft gooey center Harry, a water bottle-wielding Eggsy, the pirate power couple of the century, and a promise of more to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The one with flowers and romance novels

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, I guess I just want to make sure I can easily find all of my prompts now to be honest. I spent ages looking for one I wrote just a day ago and I reblog too much stuff to find things easily anymore so this is the easiest way to handle it I think. 
> 
> And because I like to be organized, this will only be Hartwin prompts. So you won't have to dig through to find a pairing you want or anything, I'm saying it now. I'll have a separate work posted for Merwin prompts and then a miscellaneous one. 
> 
> So if there's a prompt you end up liking a lot, let me know! Maybe I'll expand on it or make it a full fic if there's enough interest and I liked writing it enough.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Hope you enjoy~ 
> 
> First prompt is from tumblr user granpappy-winchester: Hartwin prompt! Harry secretly reads romance novels (a lot of them, like wow dude) and Eggsy finds out.

Eggsy knows a handful of agents tease him behind his back for being the most feminine agent they have. He expected it from some of them after he ended up wearing dresses on missions more often than Roxy did. (In his defense, he was making a point to Gawain who was arguing that Roxy should be taking more honeypot missions due to her gender. Anyone can reel in a man if they try hard enough, is all he was saying. So really, that shouldn’t count.) 

His willingness to watch cheesy TV shows (Look it isn’t his fault Downtown Abbey is addicting–) and have fresh flowers in his office doesn’t help either. 

He’s the one who makes sure Merlin eats enough and goes home to sleep, he makes Roxy stay in medical long enough to actually heal, he worries when Harry goes on missions alone, he baked a cake for Percival’s birthday when he found out he had no plans, and he came into work last week with bright pink nails and matching lips because his little sister’s discovering the joys of makeup. 

Of the Kingsman, Eggsy is the “mum” agent. He’s accepted this. He knows who he is and he’s comfortable in his skin. He enjoys it for the most part. Taking care of everyone is sort of his schtick and it makes him happy to know that the people he cares about feel loved. So if Gawain–an old man who really needs to retire–wants to mock him, that’s his problem. Eggsy certainly doesn’t care that he’s bitter and alone without a friend like Eggsy to keep an eye on him and make sure he’s happy. 

(Okay so he cares a little bit. He’s a prick but he’s still a Kingsman. Eggsy brings him a muffin anonymously every Friday. Gawain was suspicious for the first month, but he’s learned to accept the kindness and Eggsy’s caught him eating them and looking content every once in awhile.) 

What he doesn’t like is when Harry glares at his flowers like they’ve killed his mother. Eggsy goes to a lot of trouble to make them match with the decor after Harry subtly insulted them the first time he brought them in. As if his flowers were more gross than him insulting them–His sister helps him pick them out every week! Even after Eggsy brought in bouquets of warm colors, deep reds and oranges to match the accents of the bureaucratic side of HQ, Harry still gives them a look of distaste every time he walks in. Every once in awhile he makes a snide remark. 

“A little ostentatious, aren’t they? They take up a good bit of space. Have you thought about telling your provider to downsize them? ” 

“A little rude, ain’t you?” Eggsy snapped back. “What’s your problem, bruv?” 

“Nothing, nothing. Just a suggestion, my boy.” 

So Eggsy sets out to find dirt on Harry. If he’s going to mock Eggsy’s small pleasures, he’s going to have to take Eggsy mocking him back. 

He enlists Roxy’s (unknowing) help because she’s always willing to get one over on the older generation even if she’s not aware of it. Even though Harry’s one of the cooler “old men”, she still takes pleasure in beating him. As long as he tells her afterward, she’ll be cool with it. 

Her pride in general is probably her biggest downfall–Never bring up the Norfolk mission around her because she still gets pissed about it–but here Eggsy can use it. 

(It goes like this: 

“Bet you can’t beat Harry in a spar.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. He’d take you down in five minutes flat.” 

“Bullshit. I might not be able to beat him–and it’s not like you could either so take that grin off your face–but I’d keep him busy for at least twenty.” ) 

He sneaks into Harry’s office while Roxy chases down their Galahad. It’s impeccably neat, as always, so Eggsy skips the obvious places. Breaking into his desk drawers is easy–he should probably talk to Merlin about security because it didn’t take more than a paperclip to crack them open–but there’s nothing of interest. Mostly it’s mission paperwork, a couple of momentos–Apparently he kept the bullet that they pried out of his head, bloody weirdo–and then he spies a latch. 

A latch to a false bottom. Very spy-y, Mr. Hart. Eggsy pries it open carefully and places it to the side before looking. 

He grins widely. Part of him had been expecting it to be porn because that would be terribly delicious fantasy material, another part had expected it to be the biscuits Merlin forbade him from eating after his last doctor’s appointment–But this is so much better. 

He’d have been able to hide it too if he’d just read on his tablet like most of the agents. Eggsy would have never known that Harry has a well-loved copy of Pride and Prejudice in his desk if Harry didn’t like the feeling of actual paper under his hands. He would never have seen a book called Hidden Fire with a half-dressed fireman on the front cover in Harry’s desk if the man didn’t have his one traditional guilty pleasure–paperback books. 

There’s a veritable library hidden in this (obscenely large) compartment and Eggsy can almost hear the “cha-ching” as he views the goldmine. 

The greatest part: if Harry had made the terrible decision to read on his tablet, Eggsy would have never found out that the man has the entire Twilight series, pristine and nearly new, with a bookmark placed mostly through the third book. 

Eggsy puts everything back exactly where it was before running out, grinning like a loon. The first Twilight book came out when he was in secondary so he remembers the original craze teenagers went through. He vaguely remembers walking past a giant line of people waiting for the premiere of one of the movies. 

His revenge is swift. He’s not one to drag out suffering, but he does have a point to make. They’re in a meeting, towards the end where the abroad agents sign off and the ones in HQ socialize before going back to work, when Eggsy turns to Harry and says, “So, I have a question. You gotta minute?” 

“Of course,” Harry responds, blinking. “What can I help you with?” 

“It’s just a curiosity thing, you can say no if you don’t want to answer, ‘kay?” 

He pauses before warily saying, “Okay. Go ahead then, I suppose.” 

“Team Edward or Team Jacob?” 

Harry pales and leans away, while Eggsy grins toothily. “You brat. Were you in my office?” 

“A gentleman doesn’t reveal his tricks, bruv.” 

“That’s magicians, Eggsy.” 

“Whatever. All I’m sayin’ is you got no room makin’ fun of me flowers anymore, yeah? So knock it off. I know I ain’t no florist but I like ‘em.” 

Harry’s lips press together tightly before suddenly he looks confused. “You mean–You picked out the flowers?” 

Eggsy stares. “Duh. Who else woulda? It’s for my office, innit?” 

“I thought–Well, I assumed you had a lover.” Harry starts blushing. He clears his throat and fiddles with his cufflinks as if they aren’t perfect as always. “I apologize. I never meant to offend you. Your taste in flowers is as impeccable as everything else you do, of course.” 

Eggsy keeps staring. “Oh my god. You was jealous.” 

“No, that’s not–” 

“You was jealous of someone who don't even exist. Were you thinkin’ I was out there makin’ my own romance story or somethin’?” He grins widely. “Aw, Harry~ Didn’t you learn nothin’ from those books you got? You jumped to conclusions, bruv.” He leans forward and pecks him on the cheek, leaning back and patting it briefly. “The obvious love interest is always the winner. There’s a reason Bella ain’t with Jacob in the end–” 

Harry cuts him off with a groan, leaning back in his seat and covering his face with his hands. (As if that’ll cover his blush, nice try Harry–)“I can’t believe you kissed me and then spoiled the series. I’ve never had such a bittersweet experience in my life.” 

Eggsy laughs and almost dances out of his seat. “Bye, Harry! You get to plan our date for Friday.” 

“I didn’t agree to that!” He calls after him, but Eggsy’s already out the door and doing a victory dance out of view. 

(It shouldn’t surprise Eggsy that he walks into work the next day and there’s a large bouquet of roses waiting for him. And it shouldn’t surprise him that Harry is the type to whisk him away after work to fly him to Paris for a week, because he is that kind of rich romantic. 

He also uses words like, “bewitch” and “enchant” and “ravish” in bed, which is unbelievably endearing. Kinda hot if he’s honest. 

It’s also very, very endearing that Harry calls him, “my Eggsy”, “my dear heart”, “my darling”, or, Eggsy’s favorite, “my beloved” at every opportunity. The love letters left on his desk before one of them leave for a mission are addressed to, “My Beloved.” 

All of it is very romance novel inspired but fuck if it doesn’t make Eggsy’s heart flutter. It’s a good thing he doesn’t mind being the heroine in Harry’s love story.)


	2. The one with unnecessary touching and a slow-motion video of Merlin punching Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From tumblr user thirstforfirth: 
> 
> Hartwin prompt: After Harry comes back, Eggsy develops a habit of always reaching out to Harry, maybe holding onto the cuff of his shirt, to reassure himself that Harry's actually there. Maybe he doesn't realize that he's doing it. Harry of course, is wonderfully obliging about the whole thing and just wants to make sure that his boy knows he's safe and cared for.

Harry likes to think he’s not a vain man. He doesn’t overstate his looks or boast about his skills, nor does he overemphasize his role in people’s lives. He never dreamed of taking credit for Eggsy’s transformation over the course of his training–He helped the boy, but it was Eggsy’s potential that let him thrive in the Kingsman environment and succeed. 

This being said, he had assumed he had a fairly large impact on Eggsy’s life. He proposed the boy for a spy agency and acted as his mentor for months, even outside of his time in a coma. Yet he apparently hadn’t shed many tears about Harry’s “demise”. 

At the very least, he thought Eggsy would have been mildly distressed about his supposed death. He didn’t want the boy distraught, but some level of mourning had been expected. 

He came back to Kingsman manor after two months of being thought dead, having finally recovered from his wounds. He hadn’t been sure about Kingsman loyalties until he was able to sneak past Merlin’s defenses and look at the mission report filed for V-Day. Therefore, he hadn’t contacted any of them. Nor did he make plans to return until he was certain Arthur had been handled and the rest of Valentine’s associates were out of Kingsman. 

(And if he took the time to catch up on personal matters, such as rewriting his will and seeing his sister for the first time in a decade, well, it only held him up an extra week and no one would have to know.) 

Merlin punched him, which he really should’ve expected for showing up without a warning. Percival laughed and shook his head fondly before inviting him out for a “resurrection” drink. The new Lancelot gave a small yelp of surprise, though they hadn’t really interacted so that wasn’t strange. 

Eggsy–Harry would be hard-pressed to say how he expected his boy to react. On the flight home, he had imagined Eggsy screaming at him for not returning home right away. He considered that Eggsy might punch him or try to shoot him, especially after hearing about the disaster that was V-Day. Perhaps Eggsy would cry and run from the room and Harry would have to chase after him, pull him into a hug and soothe his gentle charge. 

(To be fair, the only experience he has with resurrection comes from the Bible and the beginning of Sherlock’s third season. There isn’t exactly a baseline for protégés’ reactions to their mentor returning from being supposedly dead.) 

So when he walks into Eggsy’s office, he barely has a chance to feel a burst of pride for his boy before their eyes meet. He braces himself and tries to think of something to spit out as a greeting. 

Therefore, he’s a little surprised when Eggsy only raises an eyebrow at him, looks him up and down, and says, “Welcome back, bruv. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes. You all fixed up then?” 

“Yes,” Harry responds slowly. “Apart from the black eye forming courtesy of Merlin, I suppose.” 

“Probably deserved that,” Eggsy snickers. “He was nearly done with all the paperwork to take you off active duty, last I heard.” 

“What a shame. Maybe he’ll let me burn it all.” 

Eggsy laughs and gets to his feet, patting Harry on the back when he walks by to reach the door. His fingers linger until he shoves both hands into his pockets abruptly. “Maybe. Really, good to see you home safe and sound, Harry. Don’t do that again, yeah?” 

And with that, he’s gone. Harry’s left in the meeting room, alone and confused. 

“Not to sound ungrateful,” He says out loud. “Because I am very grateful I was only punched once, but. But really. That’s it?”   
He feels cheated. 

In the end, he assures himself he’s over it. It’s reassuring, in a strange way, that Eggsy can be as soft-hearted as he is but still remain practical. He saved the world in the wake of Harry’s “death” and responded pragmatically to his return, which shows that he’s rational and emotionally strong despite how gentle his soul is. Mostly he’s happy that Eggsy isn’t angry with him and they can skip that mess of issues. 

(Except he’s not really, because didn’t he care at all? Why hasn’t he reacted?) 

After two weeks of being back, having gone through a handful of short missions with Eggsy as his mentor, he reevaluates. Guiltily, happily, he reevaluates. 

Because Eggsy keeps touching him unnecessarily–

“My bad, Harry. Wait, got a bit of ash–” He swipes at Harry’s pristine shoulders before grasping his right one, squeezing it lightly. “Got it, you’re good.” Then he lets go after a this-side-of-too-long second and recreates the original distance between them. 

–Eggsy has consistently grabbed for his wrist to get his attention at least thrice daily since he returned– 

“Aw, c’mon bruv, it’s lunchtime!” He grabs Harry’s wrist to drag him out from behind his desk. Harry notes, a little flustered, that he doesn’t let go for forty-five seconds until they’re mostly down the hallway. 

“Harry, wait, gotta question,” He stops Harry with a hand on his wrist, below his shirt cuffs. Skin-on-skin, and Harry barely remembers to answer the question before Eggsy takes his hand back. 

“Hold up, you think you can beat me? C’mon, to the gym–Cocky bastard, can’t believe I ever thought you were cool.” Eggsy tugs his wrist in the direction they’re heading, snickering when Harry stumbles. 

–And on their last mission, when they were in a tight spot, Eggsy grasped the back of his jacket to scrunch in his fist like a security blanket. He then freely used his grip to tug Harry out of danger and shove behind him. Which would be fine, but when the danger passed, he readjusted his grip to Harry’s sleeve and held on as they sprinted out, leaving Eggsy to work one-handedly. 

He was almost insulted. Because Eggsy acts like he didn’t care that Harry was gone, then turns around and in the same breath acts like Harry’s too incompetent to protect himself on a milk-run mission. And he had turned to respond with a sarcastic, snide remark, when he saw how pale Eggsy was. How Eggsy’s fist clenched around Harry’s sleeve to the point it was white and trembling. How Eggsy was taking perfectly pointed, slow breaths as if to calm himself down. How he swallowed before meeting Harry’s eyes and smirking, saying, “You good, bruv?” 

He felt his shoulders droop as he reached up to run a hand through Eggsy’s hair. “Yes, Eggsy. I’m good.” 

At the time, he couldn’t quite put what he saw into words. Eggsy’s emotions had been too raw and Harry’s own hurt too visceral for him to analyze it, so they wandered to medical and got fixed up before going their separate ways with only a small bit of banter between them. Eggsy left before Harry, though not before fiddling with Harry’s tie. 

(”It looks weird, not havin’ it fixed up right. Just give me a sec–There we go, now you can face the doctor. Maybe she’ll be so impressed by your charm she won’t yell at you for bein’ in here so soon again, yeah?”) 

After a night of rest and a solid breakfast, Harry understands. And he is horribly, guiltily, pleased by his conclusion. 

He dresses quickly in a casual sweater and slacks after telling Merlin he and Eggsy won’t be in for the day. Merlin, pleasant man that he is, snaps, “Took you long enough. The lad’s been a wreck for weeks.” 

“I take it you’re still angry.” 

“I take it you’re still a prick.” 

And with that genial exchange, a good sign their friendship is nearly mended, Harry goes to Eggsy’s flat. 

(Being the sweet boy that he is, he gave the house Kingsman provided him with to his mother and sister. According to Merlin, Eggsy lived with them for a two weeks before he decided he couldn’t handle lying to his mother regularly. He bought his own tiny flat in an attempt to, “Get a little independence, yeah? Ain’t nothin’ personal Mum, you know I’ll still be over all the time. But it don’t feel right to be bringin’ home someone when you and Dais are here–” 

”Not that he’s bringing anyone home,” Roxy had cut in at that point in the story, giving Harry an odd look.) 

Harry knocks, because even if Eggsy has yet to learn most manners Harry knows how unsettling it is to have someone break in for anything less than an emergency. 

The door opens after a moment, a half-dressed Eggsy there with some crumbs dangling off of his chin. He wipes at it with the back of his hand, asks, “Uh, hi? What do you need at six in the mornin’, bruv?” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry says immediately. “Before I start, you need to know that. I’m sorry for my reaction to your final test and I’m sorry for abandoning you after that. I didn’t exactly mean to do that last part, but it still hurt you and I’m sorry for that.” 

Eggsy’s hand tightens on the doorframe. “Look, Harry, you don’t–” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” He adds quickly. “I know I’m not a young man anymore, but I can handle myself. I’m not going to disappear like that ever again. I won’t trick you again. I won’t make you think I’m dead, then pop back like nothing happened. It wasn’t okay that I put you in that position.” Harry pauses and smiles self-deprecatingly. “I fucked my return up rather spectacularly. And I’m sorry for that too.” 

It’s a hollow sort of victory hearing Eggsy choke on a sob, because it hurts, but at least he knows he’s saying what needs to be said. Carefully, he takes a step forward and wraps an arm around Eggsy, tugging his head in so his forehead can press against Harry’s chest. Weaving his fingers into Eggsy’s hair while his other hand strokes his back, Harry urges him closer. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you alone again. You won’t have to save the world without me anytime soon.” 

“I thought you was /dead/, you dickhead.” 

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Even after you came back, it felt wrong. Kept thinkin’ I imagined it all and you’d be dead again.” 

“That’s my fault. I should have contacted Merlin beforehand, or called ahead, or done anything except what I actually did. It was extremely stupid. You didn’t deserve that.” 

Eggsy finally wraps his own arms around Harry, clenching Harry’s sweater in his fists. “’M glad you’re here.” 

(For months after this, Eggsy will continue to grab Harry’s jacket. During debriefings, under the table at meetings, on missions, before missions, after missions, he still will grab for Harry’s sleeve and wrinkle the fabric in his fist. Harry will allow it, until he starts to redirect Eggsy’s grip to his hand, where he can squeeze back reassuringly.) 

”I do have a small question,” Harry begins when they’re settled on Eggsy’s couch with breakfast and a campy movie on his secondhand television. “You barely reacted when I came back–Which we established was an awful way to return, yes, please stop glaring–And I have to ask, were you surprised at all? It was very unnerving for you to react like I just went out for a stroll. I almost requested you for a psych eval” 

Eggsy clears his throat and rubs at his red eyes. “Er, well, I actually left to have a bit of a cry in the loo after I first saw you. So I was pretty surprised, if we’re bein’ completely honest, I just hid it at first ‘cause Rox had sent me a text. Told me you was comin’ and not to faint. Sent that video of Merlin punchin’ you too so I wouldn’t think it was a joke.” 

“She recorded that?” 

“Harry, have you been checkin’ your email? There’s a link to it on Merlin’s signature.” 

“That bastard.” 

“It’s even in slow motion, wanna see?”


	3. The one with a Merlin who came for the laughs and left with the trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From anonymous: 
> 
> can you imagine harry and eggsy having to go undercover to a dinner or a gala or something, posing as father and son, and eggsy just spends the whole time calling harry "daddy" as often as possible and just being a general little shit. and people are just like "its so nice that theyre so close :)))" (eggsy is still calling him "daddy" later that night as harry fucks him)
> 
> Warnings for this: mild discussion of daddy kink, implication that sex with daddy kink occurs off screen, exasperated Merlin

Look, he thought it would be funny. 

Since becoming Arthur, Merlin has been bored out of his mind. He doesn’t get to handle missions directly and help the agents while they’re in the field–No, instead he gets to /organize/ missions. Find out what’s worth their time, find out what’s profitable, somehow make the two work together, and then–oh, and then–he gets to pick and choose who goes on what missions. Then he fills out the paperwork, and half of the time by that point he has to change the mission parameters because it takes so bloody long. 

So yeah, he wanted to mess with Harry. The bastard “died” long enough to let Merlin take over as Arthur when really, it should have gone to just about anyone else because Merlin was best as being Merlin. (Roderick’s a piss poor mission manager and Merlin would REALLY like to kick the bastard to the kerb and take over himself while splitting Arthur-duties with Harry and Percival, but until an agent gets hurt or dies on his watch, Merlin has no authority to fire the arse.)

They used to prank each other all the time. To the point Chester had to put rules in place to keep them from inadvertently sabotaging Kingsman missions in their enthusiasm. Since the former Lancelot was killed, however, they haven’t had a chance to let off steam. Merlin felt using his abilities as Arthur would be fitting since Harry abandoned him to the worst job in the agency.

Making a fake mission—Not hard at all, just a bit of money in the right hands and they had invitations for two KIngsman agents to attend a banquet in Ireland. To the gala hosts, they’d be there as extra protection. To Harry, there was intelligence to be gathered.

In the end, there’d be nothing and Harry would be right pissed about that alone.

But Merlin got cocky and thought, “I can do better.” And he’s paying for it dearly.

“You’re a horrible person,” Roxy says. She’s staring at the screen, head tilted in contemplation. “Really. Absolutely horrible. I can’t believe you invited me to watch this. What is wrong with you?”

“I thought it’d be funny!” He nearly shrieks. “They weren’t supposed to take it seriously—It was obviously fake. Their ‘target’ isn’t even there for fuck’s sake—“

“There are some things I didn’t need to know about my best mate. What the fuck, Merlin? I know you’re mad about Germany but this is just cruel.”

“This is not what I wanted to happen, I can promise you that. It was supposed to be funny!”

On the surface, the two are performing adequately. Harry and Eggsy are sitting at the table they were assigned, laughing and socializing with wealthy individuals. They all appear to be charmed beyond belief by the duo. Eggsy occasionally nudges Harry with his elbow or rolls his eyes playfully at the older man, who will then chide him and turn to his neighbor with a conspiratorial, “What can you do? Boys will be boys.”

Then Eggsy will say, “Oh, but remember that time in Venice, Daddy?” in his ridiculous posh accent.

“Daddy, did you hear what Veronica is explaining? It’s fascinating, we should invest right away—“

“Oh yes, Daddy and I love to go boating. There was this one time—No no no, I have to tell them Daddy, it’s a great story—“

“Linda, have you ever worked with Daddy’s company before? They’re currently looking into eco-friendly production styles, I think it’d be right up your alley—Aren’t I right, Daddy?”

And when he says that word—“yes, /that/ word, you know perfectly well which one I mean”—Merlin will see Harry’s heart rate spike. Every. Damn. Time.

Eggsy’s heart rate hasn’t slowed down since he said it the first time. If Merlin wasn’t trying to knock himself unconscious, he’d warn the boy about potential health risks of that level of stress for so long.

But no, the worst part isn’t learning about Harry’s new kink or Eggsy’s exhibitionism—The worst part is how the rest of the table is eating it up.

They love the two. They think they’re adorable. They keep commenting on how Eggsy looks so much like Harry, but he must have his mother’s hair. Eggsy’s the youngest at the table and pretends to bask in the attention like he’s playing with the big boys and girls for the first time, which the women absolutely fall for.

“I think she’s hoping for a threesome,” Roxy states suddenly. She points at the younger woman—Olivia—wearing pearls. “Listen, she’s starting with Harry by complimenting his ‘son’. That’s questionable.” 

“—have a lovely son, Lawrence,” Olivia purrs, laying a hand on Harry’s forearm. Her other hand has her chin resting on it as she stares at him predatorily. “Really, he’s wonderful. And I find it highly admirable that you and your son have such a caring relationship.”

Harry pats her hand delicately and smiles. “Yes, after my wife passed it was just the two of us and we grew very close. I’m proud of my son—Very glad he’s grown into the fine young man he is today. He makes it very easy to love him.”

Eggsy’s monitor screeches at that, and through his glasses they can see how he nearly knocks over his wine glass. Through Harry’s glasses, they can see how red his face is and how he’s shifting in his seat—

“Oh my god. I can’t do this. Eggsy is my friend, Harry is my coworker, and I am far, far too gay for this,” Roxy stands up abruptly and backs away from the console. “I was trying to be a good friend and support you through your fuck ups but I can’t do this. We are never talking about this. Tonight didn’t happen. I didn’t know about this. Bye.”

She leaves quickly.

Merlin wants to shut off the feed. It’s not a real mission so they’re not in any direct danger. Neither of them have even tried to talk to him or ask him for information about the “mission”, so they probably know it’s a load of shit by this point.

But he can’t. Because he sent them out there, and if he stops watching them while they’re on duty and they get themselves involved in a situation, it’s his fault if they come home in body bags. Which means he has to sit through this. Had this been as funny as he imagined, that wouldn’t have been a hardship. He had planned to lose sleep tonight for his prank, to watch and fuel Harry’s embarrassment while casually eating takeout.

Instead, he bribes a group of interns to make a beer run. When they return, he cracks one open and leans back in his seat, turning the microphone off before starting to pay attention again.

Olivia hasn’t given up her attempts to seduce Harry. Eggsy’s hand keeps brushing against Harry’s thigh, suspiciously close to his crotch. According to Harry’s monitors, he’s sweating more and breathing harder than his normal resting rate.

Harry ends up plying Olivia with alcohol until she can barely stand. Her friend Georgiana helps her to their ride before dessert arrives.

“Oh, this is much too sweet for me,” Harry says after a bite, dropping his fork. He dabs at his mouth with his napkin while pushing the plate to his right. “You have mine, my boy. I insist. You’ve accompanied me tonight when I know you find these things tedious. You deserve it.”

“How the bloody hell did you take that sexily?” Merlin asks the screen. He throws a bottle cap at it. “It’s cheesecake! Hardly a sexy offering. And it’s not like he worded that well at all, fucking porn has better dialogue than that shit. Really, Eggsy, have some pride. And Harry! God, you’re pathetic. Do you really think that was hot? My grandmother could do better for fuck’s sake.”

Eggsy starts acting tipsy around his fourth glass of wine. Or he might actually be tipsy, if he’s actually drinking. On a normal mission, Merlin would chew him out for even having one. Seeing that everyone is probably aware that this is a total farce, though, Merlin keeps his mouth shut. He’s not exactly staying sober either.

He still worries that some ridiculous world-ending disaster will occur, but Harry drinks water the entire time and his glasses are on Eggsy’s form often enough that nothing could possibly happen before Harry could protect him. It’s sickening.

“I think we should cut you off, darling,” Harry murmurs, reaching for Eggsy’s glass.

“Daddy, no—Just one more, yeah?” Eggsy pulls it out of reach, pouting. “I’m fine, Daddy, really—Please Daddy?”

Merlin groans when Harry clearly falters. “Well, one more can’t hurt.”

“Are we really doing this? I can’t tell if you’re both honestly saying this shit or scripted it beforehand,” Merlin says. He scrubs a hand over his face and tosses his latest empty bottle into the makeshift-recycling bin. “I hate you both.”

In the end, Merlin finishes a case of beer and the two are safe.

They leave after dancing with two women each, Eggsy stumbling slightly while “Daddy” laughs indulgently at his antics. Harry props Eggsy against the wall while he calls for a cab.

“Merlin,” Eggsy’s voice is suddenly direct, only a little slurred. Merlin perks up. “I just wanna say, with all of me heart—Thank you. So much. You are the absolute best and I will pay for your therapy. But this—God, I’ve been tryin’ and tryin’ to think of a way to bring this up and this was everythin’ I coulda dreamed—Just thanks, mate. Thanks so fuckin’ much. I dunno how you knew, or if Rox knew and told you, but thanks. So yeah. You might wanna turn off your view soon.”

He’s slow. He blames the beer for not turning it off right away when Eggsy gave the warning.

But he watches them get into the cab. Watches Harry pull Eggsy onto his lap, gets to hear Eggsy’s breath hitch on a moaned, “Daddy, please—“ and Harry’s response of, “Darling, you were so good—Such a good boy for me, my darling, just for me—“

He slams the off button on his computer.

It’s eerily silent in the wake of the latest installment for “Uncomfortable Kingsman Porn”: The file on which they keep the rare honeypot mission footage on. And now, apparently, Harry and Eggsy’s night of discovery has a place there too.

Merlin scrubs at his face and sighs heavily. “At least I don’t have to get Eggsy a Christmas gift now,” He mutters. “Can’t fucking believe it. That was supposed to be hilarious. Harry was going to hate me. Now here I am, apparently playing fairy godmother of all things kinky. You’re fucking welcome, Unwin.”

He doesn’t bother going home; instead he opts to sleep in the closet he converted into a tiny bedroom early on in his career. It’s in the tech labs, which means technically it belongs to Roderick now, but Merlin has the key to it and no one else has dared to touch it since he became Arthur.

With a groan, he collapses onto his cot and throws an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the memories of his friends’ sex lives.

(The next morning, when he goes into his office, there’s a two bottles of clear alcohol with a handmade label of, “Brain Bleach” in Harry’s handwriting stuck to the front. Two days later, he receives a large box of homemade biscuits with a note that says, “So you’ll actually eat for once, maybe. Thanks again~”

It’d be heartwarming except he’d really like to never think about it again. Now every time he eats one of those, frankly amazing, biscuits he gets a flash of Eggsy moaning. Which he really, really doesn’t need.)


	4. The one with Eggsy slobber and bad cologne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous: 
> 
> Prompt? Eggsy is concerned that HARRY is concerned about the huge age gap and does his best to disabuse Harry of this notion. in bed.
> 
> Warnings: "in bed" was not interpreted as sex here, don't get your hopes up for porny stuff ;)

Waking up is slow. Eggsy recognizes the scratchy fabric of medical’s sheets first, followed by the thick, cottony taste in his mouth. It’s an experience he would name “fucking awful” if he didn’t feel as dazed as he does. As it is, it takes him at least a minute to remember to open his eyes if he wants to find out why he’s there. 

“Looks like someone’s decided to finally wake up. Good to have you with us, Bedivere.” 

Elegantly, Eggsy utters, “Ngh.” 

After a moment, a sliver of ice is gently pressed between his lips. He could weep over the relief it briefly gives. 

“When you’re not drugged to the gills anymore, I’ll explain everything. All you need to know now is your mission was successful and you’ll recover completely. Relax. Rest. Don’t try to get out.” Eggsy focuses enough to notice it must be Merlin, judging by the lack of hair in his vision. He squints to make sure. 

Another blurry figure appears between one blink and the next. Eggsy startles, which causes a hand from each of them to steady his shoulders. “Whozit then?” 

“Thought I told you not to be here, Galahad,” Merlin’s voice is faux-light. Eggsy can tell by his forehead wrinkles. “Or did you think I was kidding?” 

“You’re not his father, Merlin–” 

“No, but you’re old enough to be.” 

“You have no right to keep me from him. I’m allowed to be concerned about my partner–” Eggsy perks up as he registers that it’s Harry’s voice talking. He blinks blearily at what he can now identify as Harry’s hand and leans down to press a sloppy kiss to it. “Ah, thank you, my dear boy. I’m happy to see you too.”

Eggsy preens. Their hands stay, which he absentmindedly appreciates. With his head all fuzzy, it’s comforting to have them watching him and making sure he’s safe. 

“’Dear boy’? Really, Harry?” 

“As I was saying: He’s my partner–” 

“Have you meant ‘romantic partner’ every time you said that? Because you let me think you meant he was your mission partner–Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to have a couple going on missions together? How easy it would be to have a compromised mission?” 

“That’s bullshit. We work well together. It’s just in more ways than the conventional.” 

“Let’s even ignore the fraternization problem. We’ll ignore the fact that you’re willing to ruin his reputation in Kingsman before he’s even been an agent a year, hell, we’ll ignore anything to do with the job–” 

“Archie, please don’t start this now.” 

“No no no. You disobey my orders, I disobey yours.” 

Eggsy tries to wipe at his mouth that is drooling without his consent. After a few failed attempts, he turns and scrubs his face lazily against the hand on his left shoulder. He hears a light, irritated sigh before his chin is tilted up and fabric is swiping over his mouth and chin. 

“’Fanks Merl.” 

“You’re not feeling any pain, lad?” He stares at Eggsy expectantly for a couple moments. “Well?” 

“I shook me head.” 

“No you didn’t. But that answers my question just as well.” 

Harry snorts. “I must admit, I hadn’t realized how maternal you were towards Eggsy. I would have asked your permission to court him beforehand if I knew you’d taken him under your wing.” 

“Fuck off. At least my relationship with him is appropriate given our respective ages.” 

“Well, you’re not wrong there.” 

“So you acknowledge you’re too old for him and taking advantage?” 

Eggsy grunts. “Oi, ‘m like twenty-somethin’, ain’t I? ‘e’s not takin’ ‘vantage, ‘m an adult.” 

“Let the grown-ups talk, Eggsy. I’ll bring you pudding later if you’re good.” 

He furrows his eyebrows in indecision, but then they ignore him again. 

“Yes. I’m aware I am too old for him. I’m aware that he isn’t even thirty and I’m catching up to sixty uncomfortably fast. I know. Do you really think I haven’t told myself all of this?” 

“I think you’re selfish enough to ignore all of it. You’re a good man, Harry, but you’re also a selfish one.” He sighs exasperatedly and releases Eggsy’s shoulder at last. “And I’m arguing for no good reason, really. It’s not like you’ll listen to me. You never do.” 

“Well, you’re not wrong.” 

“Don’t be a dickhead. You’re lucky I’m Arthur now and can put off reporting you two. Go have an emotional lover moment, I have more important matters to attend to than your impulse control.” He sighs again. “Eggsy, lad, if you start feeling pain or need anything, press the button. Got it?” 

Eggsy carefully thrusts his hand forward with a thumbs up. Merlin storms out, pointedly knocking shoulders with Harry. It’s rather primary school, if Eggsy’s being honest. But he likes Merlin so he won’t say it. 

After a moment of silence, Harry murmurs, “God bless Kingsman painkillers. You’re in a good place right now, aren’t you darling?” 

Eggsy sloppily grins. “Be better if you’d gimme cuddles, luv.” 

“How can I resist such an enchanting request?” Harry dryly responds. He sits on the bed next to Eggsy and wraps an arm around his shoulders. Eggsy squirms closer, whining at the inconvenient IV– “Don’t touch it, Eggsy. Leave it be.” 

“Hey,” Eggsy looks up abruptly, wincing when his vision doesn’t catch up for a second. He blinks rapidly and places a hand on Harry’s face, patting it. “You’re not–You’re older, but ‘s fine. We’re good.” 

“I know, darling.” 

“An’ like–You treat me so well. Ain’t never had someone care ‘bout me like you do. An’ you don’t laugh at me. An’ you’re hot.” 

“I’d argue this is sweeter than any poetry you could ever write me. Thank you darling, I’m glad you approve of our relationship and this old man.” 

“You’s my favorite.” 

“You’re mine as well.” 

“Don’t–We’re good, yeah?” 

“Of course we are. Your age doesn’t bother me that much, Eggsy. You don’t have to worry.” He leans down to kiss the top of Eggsy’s head. “As Merlin said, I am a very, very selfish man. I won’t let you go anytime soon.” 

Eggsy smiles and hums. “Good. You make me happy. Ain’t got no complaints. ‘cept your cologne.” 

“You don’t like my new cologne?” 

“No. ‘s awful.” 

“You said it was distinguished.” 

“I lied.”


	5. The one with vulnerability and tact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From anonymous: 
> 
> i adore your sub!eggsy, do you ever plan to do more? its so rare to find someone who dose the gentle domestic stuff, it just made my day.
> 
> Warnings: mild d/s

Harry is aware that he is a flawed man. At his core, he is completely selfish. He has killed more men than he cares to count and not always for good reasons. He is vain and horribly, horribly prideful. He shows off like a peacock and doesn’t do anything for someone else’s benefit unless it will help him later on. 

Part of him is ashamed by his flaws, but the rest of him shrugs and continues with his job. Life is what it is, Harry Hart is a selfish, awful man, and the world spins on. 

But that tiny, minuscule part of him that still weeps when he commits an atrocity, is what aches to take care of his boy. It’s the part of him that stays awake at night and regrets the way old men tend to. 

It’s that small part of him that wants to care and love his wonderful boy that shushes Eggsy and pets his hair, helping him sink to his knees. 

“Is the fabric loose enough? How does it feel?” 

Eggsy thinks for a moment, brow furrowing, before it clears. “’s good. I can’t see.” 

“That would be the point, my dear. How are your knees?” 

“Good. Comfy.” He gives a small smile when Harry’s hand trails down his neck. “Are you happy?” 

God. 

How can he ask that? How can Harry respond to that? His mouth is dry as a desert. 

Eggsy’s brow furrows and his shoulders wiggle, as if he’s trying to reach a hand out. The ropes stop it, but he must have forgotten about them. “Harry?” The longer Harry doesn’t respond, the more labored Eggsy’s breathing gets. “Harry? Are you happy? Am I okay?” A slight pause, where Eggsy’s breath hitches. “Harry?” 

Harry manages to choke out, “Of course. You’re beautiful, darling. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Eggsy relaxes at once. Harry takes his seat before his knees give out on him. He carefully directs Eggsy’s head to his lap once he’s settled. His nose nuzzles against his trouser fabric, a content sigh leaving him immediately. 

For a little while, Harry can be the cool, collected dominant. He can thread his fingers through Eggsy’s hair while one hand holds a tumbler, let his boy relax. His back can be stiff and proper, the posture of a strong, put-together man. 

But he has to put his drink down. He has to tighten his grip in Eggsy’s hair. He has to crumple until his upper body’s curved around Eggsy’s head, has to clutch him close and just hold him for some minutes. He mumbles nonsense, words like, “my sweet, beautiful boy”, “Eggsy, darling, my wonderful darling”, “you’ve saved me, you make me think I’m worth something”, “thank you for being here, for being you, for existing, you’re so bloody perfect.” 

Eggsy, the beautiful, wonderful, gentle thing he is, nuzzles every bit of Harry he can reach and hums delightedly. He talks back, soothing Harry without realizing it: “Love you, Harry”, “You’re my favorite person”, “Think you’re fuckin’ great, I love you so much”, “Don’t deserve a man like you, bruv, I really don’t.” 

He can’t see Harry’s tears, or the distress on his features. Because he’s stunning and amazing, he lets the blindfold do its job and protect Harry’s dignity. But he makes sure to be gentle, to kiss every bit of Harry with reverence and kindness. 

Harry doesn’t deserve Eggsy. But this tiny, vulnerable part of him needs his boy. His good, beautiful boy. 

“You’re a good boy,” Harry says hoarsely when he’s calmed down, minutes or hours later. He presses a kiss to the top of Eggsy’s head, a small smile bursting out when he hears Eggsy’s breath catch in his throat. “You’re my good boy. You’re so, so good for me, darling.” 

Eggsy ducks his head, but Harry won’t let him get away. He peppers Eggsy’s face with kisses, smile widening when Eggsy giggles. It’s a relief to know that as easily as he can destroy, he can also make Eggsy happy. He can still love.


	6. The one with the water bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr user hobbitkisses: 
> 
> Hi, I'm v new to the fandom but I'm kinda stuck already. I’ve a prompt for you, if you're up for it: imagine that after Eggsy becomes an agent, the trauma from the abuse he suffered with Dean catches up with him. After Harry's death, he starts dreaming nightmares about V-day, and soon these nightmares kinda morph in to the ones with Dean until Eggsy’s dreaming of Harry beating him. When he then comes back, he starts noticing that Eggsy flinches whenever Harry makes a sudden movement. Angst pls?
> 
> Warnings:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For most of these I don't bother adding in my personal comments to the prompter, but here's a snippet of it just because I deviate from the prompt hardcore so I want you all to know what not to expect: 
> 
> "i don’t think i can do this prompt for a couple of reasons. 1) i don’t actually have nightmares? like the closest thing i had to one ever was this weird one about colin firth being my baby daddy and impregnating me with a dildo in the shape of an arm. so like. i have no idea how to write nightmares realistically at all. because all of mine turn into random shit that i can’t even put actual words to half the time 2) i am very, very lucky to have never experienced abuse of any kind. i’ve tried to write a handful of fics that deal with this topic and i end up handling them very poorly. like i can reference it, but when it’s the focus, i end up borderline fetishizing it. which isn’t cool or okay in any way. and i don’t trust myself to handle it safely without hurting someone in the process. and i’m working on that and recognizing what i’m doing is problematic, but i’m not going to post anything to do with it until i am 500% sure i’m not being a gross little shit like i was when i was younger"

Post-V-Day is, to put it simply, a clusterfuck. Kingsman is in shambles, with a leader dead, a handful of members dead due to the SIM cards, and another handful dead due to the implants exploding. Merlin barely trusts anyone other than Eggsy and Roxy, which means they have to handle a lot more than new agents usually had to. 

Aside from saving the world, of course. 

To say Eggsy barely has a chance to breathe in the aftermath is an understatement. A good portion of the days blur together and he vaguely remembers he and Roxy, while en route to assist the Australian government, having a conversation about the merits of pizza with anchovies versus cupcake-flavored lube. Roxy won, though what she won and on what grounds Eggsy has no clue. 

That being said, he can’t be blamed for not being overly responsive to Harry’s return. 

“Eggsy,” Harry greets warmly. “It’s good to see you well. I hear you’ve been busy.” 

Eggsy blinks. Harry’s smile falters and turns wary. A beat passes, then two. They stare at each other, Harry’s face twisting in concern. Concern for him or Eggsy, he doesn’t know. 

“Look, bruv.” Eggsy finally says. “I need to be in Morocco yesterday. And I have no idea if I’m even awake right now. You may or may not be real. I may or may not be havin’ a nervous breakdown. I really have no fuckin’ clue.” He shrugs helplessly. “So. I’m gonna go get on the plane I need. Sleep while I’m goin’ over. And if this is still a thing, then I’ll deal with it.” 

Eggsy turns and marches away. 

Thirty-six hours later, his eyebrows singed and nursing a broken nose in medical, Eggsy calls Merlin. “So, did I imagine Harry bein’ alive or was that real?” 

“That’s real. Please take a break if that was a legitimate concern. We’ll survive you taking a day off.” 

“I’mma do that.” 

It’s automatic, going home. He grabs the shower, glad that his mum’s already asleep and won’t question why he’s walking in at three in the morning. He’s pretty sure she already knows and is waiting for him to tell her, because his mum isn’t a moron and Eggsy has done a piss-poor job of hiding it after weeks of extreme exhaustion, but he’d rather save that conversation for another day. 

Washing away the grime of an unknown amount of days is a wonderful, orgasmic feeling. He’s pretty sure sex has never felt as good as this shower is. He takes his time, falls asleep twice, and eventually makes his way to his bed. He can’t remember if he actually grabbed a towel or not on his way out. 

He doesn’t feel like changing into pajamas either, so he just crawls into bed and resolves to deal with that tomorrow like the rest of the problems in his life. 

Eggsy sleeps dreamlessly for the first half of the night. He wakes up once, uses the loo, downs half a gallon of water, and collapses again, his reusable water bottle still clutched in his arms. 

The second time, he refills his water bottle with ice, because it’s fucking hot and his mum stole his fan. He hugs it to his naked chest and shivers, trying to erase the image of spattered blood and dead, accusing eyes. 

He falls asleep still feeling guilty and disgusting. Like a disgrace. 

The next time he wakes up, it’s light out, he’s screaming, someone else is screaming, he’s thrown his water bottle at the intruder and is automatically reaching for a gun. 

It all happens very fast. 

“Why the bloody fuck were you sleeping with a metal bottle?” Harry snaps. He has Eggsy’s wrists in his hold while he straddles him, keeping him from attacking further or using the gun in his hand. “I was expecting the gun, but a metal bottle?” 

“Holy shit. You’re actually fuckin’ alive.” Eggsy stares at the ceiling past Harry’s face. “What the fuck.” 

“Astute. It only took you–I believe the count’s seventy-two hours?” He glances at his watch. “We’ll say seventy-two hours to realize. I’m honestly impressed you could still carry out a mission. Concerned, but impressed.” 

“I have literally dreamt of you gettin’ shot every fuckin’ night.” 

“That’s morbid. Rather sentimental of you. Did you miss me?” 

“I’ll fuckin’ murder you, I swear to god. I’m traumatized for life.” 

“Kingsman has a psychiatrist on payroll, I recall.” 

“Not anymore.” 

“Really? That’s a shame. I liked Fiona.” 

Eggsy finally looks at Harry. Tilts his head. “Did you have to shave your hair?” 

Harry, the perfect gentleman Harry Hart, looks away and huffs. He can see a tinge of pink working its way up from under his collar. “For the surgery, you understand.” 

“Oh my god. You got a combover now.” 

Harry finally releases Eggsy’s wrists and leans back on his haunches. “It’s not that bad.” 

Eggsy snorts. Covers his mouth with his hands. “Sure. Not that bad.” 

“A gentleman doesn’t mock–” 

“A gentleman don’t fake his death for weeks,” Eggsy counters immediately. He glares. “You ain’t even apologizin’ yet. Don’t be a prick.” 

Harry sighs. “I am truly, very sorry for getting shot in the head and needing time to recover. It’s completely unforgivable, I’m sure.” 

“It is. You’ll have to work to make it up to me.” He’s only half-kidding, and Harry abruptly softens. Apparently, he’s realized Eggsy is actually shaken and close to tears. 

“Oh Eggsy. I am sorry.” He scrubs at the growing bruise on his forehead, smiling wryly. “If the Valentine footage hadn’t impressed me, your speed in attacking me with available resources certainly did. I suppose it was a good thing you’re a bleeding heart, in the end.” 

“Oh fuck you, bruv. Bleedin’ heart my arse.” Eggsy rolls his eyes. He discretely wipes at them, disguising a sniffle with a snort. 

Harry suddenly makes a choked noise. Eggsy looks up, confused. “What?” 

If Harry was blushing earlier, now he might be having a stroke. His face is unbelievably red–Is that even physically possible? He clears his throat and directs his stare to the wall behind Eggsy’s headboard. 

“I guess I should have given you time to put on trousers before walking in.” 

Eggsy glances down. Shrugs helplessly. “Didn’t exactly think I’d be havin’ company, in my defense.” 

“No no, of course not.” Harry’s eyes dart over to him. “So. No girlfriend that would sneak over in the middle of the night for a rendez-vous?” 

“Uh. No.” He raises an eyebrow. “If you’re propositionin’ me, you can just say so. ‘m not that hard to get, bruv. Not that that was smooth–Really, ain’t you supposed to be a super spy? That wasn’t very Bond-like, was downright pathetic–” 

Harry covers Eggsy’s mouth with his hand. “I don’t proposition young, underdressed men. So I will wait until you are appropriately dressed. We will go get breakfast and talk. I will pay. And then I will undress you. It will involve tongue. I’m sure you’ll be very satisfied with the outcome.” 

Eggsy stares. “So why can you say somethin’ like that but me bein’ naked made you blush like that?” 

“It’s less you being naked and more your–what do you young people call it? Morning wood?–surprising me.” 

He’s still too tired to blush, but he’s not too tired to smack Harry with a pillow. On the bright side, apparently Harry can actually be fun when he’s not in “gentleman-mentor” mode. Also, Eggsy’s brain isn’t nearly screwy enough to make this shit up, so he’s certain it’s reality. 

All-in-all, not a bad way to start his day off.


	7. The one with pirates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From tumblr user havesomejoshpuns: 
> 
> ok but... Hartwin fantasy AU. Like eggsy as the prince and like harry as like the pIRATE CAPTAIN OR SOMETHING

Eggsy is dismissive when Captain Harry “I wear an eye patch for aesthetic reasons only” Hart grabs his wrist and says, “I have been hired to take you to the capital.” 

“Yeah? And I’m the queen of the badlands. Pull the other one, bruv.” He gulps half of his pint and grins. “C’mon, Archie’s bet his brother’s silver on his dart game. Five pieces says he’ll cry when he loses.” 

“Eggsy, I’m serious.” He fiddles with the cuffs of his shirt, clearing his throat. “I received a letter today from a court advisor who I used to work with–” 

“No shit, a pirate turned court advisor?” He interrupts. 

Harry snorts. “The other way around, boy.” 

“No fuckin’ shit,” Eggsy gives him an appraising look. “Well, Captain Hart. Why would your friend give a flyin’ shit about me goin’ to the capital? And why now? You ain’t even supposed to be here anymore, yeah?” 

The captain had arrived in Eggsy’s tiny town by the sea three weeks ago, looking for the elf-enhanced iron that can only be found there on the underground. Eggsy had met Harry at the same pub they’re sitting in and offered to cut him a deal through his stepfather when he heard of his problem. 

They ended up seeing each other at the pub every day, chatting about this and that and taking turns paying for rounds. Harry took out Dean’s goons on the first day, after he already had his iron on his ship–and that included a minotaur, may he add–and essentially took Eggsy under his wing. Explaining tricks of his trade, telling him how to deal with sirens and harpies, telling stories of his adventures and how Eggsy can learn from his mistakes, and above all, giving Eggsy a chance. 

Eggsy’s not dumb. He could tell Harry was gearing himself up to ask Eggsy to come with him. A man doesn’t stay in town two weeks longer than expected for no reason, and it’s not like the captain was doing anything else in town. 

This is a bit of a stretch, though. 

“Look, bruv,” Eggsy continues before Harry can say anything. “I want to go with you. You don’t gotta think up some weird reason to get me to join you. I’d rather be with you.” 

Harry fumbles with his drink, nearly dropping it in his haste to put it on the counter. “That–” 

“Also, y’know you’d have less problems with depth perception if you actually, I dunno, took off the fake patch,” Eggsy adds, snorting. “Maybe you wouldn’t have to spend half your pocket change on ale mugs if you’d–” 

“Eggsy, I’m not lying. I was hired to take you to the capital.” Harry powers on when Eggsy goes to interrupt again, “Merlin–The court advisor, keep up–has recently found proof of a lineage that was believed to have died out. A lineage that takes precedence over King Arthur. The heir can overtake him–Eggsy–” 

Eggsy snorts. “Okay, bruv. Whatever. We leave tomorrow then?” He finishes the rest of his pint. “Your turn to pay. I’ll pack light.” He pauses. “I’m assuming I’ll be bunking with you, bed-warmer style, yeah? So I ain’t gonna need a pillow or nothin’.” 

Harry flushes. “I don’t think that’d be appropriate, what with you potentially being the next King of England.” 

“You’re a riot, bruv. If you snore I’ll mutiny, swear to gods. Won’t even see it comin’.” 

“Eggsy–” 

“Do we have fluffy pillows in our room?” 

“Do you mean, ‘Harry, do you have fluffy pillows in your room?’” 

“No I don’t.” 

(They leave at dawn. Eggsy greets Harry with a searing kiss, grinning at the crew’s hoots and hollers. Harry sighs. “Your father’s rolling in his grave.” 

“Yeah, me father the ex-king. You still goin’ on ‘bout that?” Eggsy snorts.) 

(They reach the capital. Eggsy still doesn’t buy it. 

“I ain’t no prince,” He tells Merlin, who is trying to strangle him through sheer force of will. His hands are full of bottles and papers, containing the proof he’s spent years painstakingly pulling together. “But King Arthur is a prick, and I’ll be more than happy to break his fuckin’ neck.” 

“I have blood tests–Tests verified with my own magic, may I add–And you’re denying it?” Merlin grits out. “Harry–” 

“Just let him go. I’ve learned situations work out for the best when you let him go freely,” Harry says, eye patch gone and fondness painted across his face. Remembering the situation with the sky giants, Eggsy reckons. That was a particular bit of genius, if he says so himself. And they got three gallons of pegasus tears for that, which paid for those nice arachnioid-silk sheets he loves to spread Harry out on. ) 

(Eggsy meets with Arthur, pretends to be interested in claiming his non-existent birth right. Arthur tries to poison him, Eggsy switches the glasses, and he’s imprisoned for treason while Arthur’s body is foaming at the mouth. 

Until Harry breaks him out with a crooked grin and a, “Miss me, darling?” 

“C’mon, Harry. Let’s leave, fuckin’ hate this place.” 

“There’s an open position–” Harry starts, grinning at Eggsy’s disgusted grunt. 

“Can you let that go? It’s bull, Harry. Besides, Merlin’ll make a good leader. Maybe actually get the official-shit in order. I miss our ship–” 

“’Our ship’? You mean my ship.” 

“That’s cute. You’re cute. Now get me out of here.” ) 

(Eggsy much prefers his title of Pirate Queen. Being King of England wouldn’t have been nearly as fun. And he wouldn’t have Harry warming his bed– 

“My bed, darling.” 

“Sure luv, you keep tellin’ yourself that. We know who really runs this ship.” 

“You wouldn’t run this ship even if you mutinied, Eggsy.” 

“I already did. Slept with the captain and took over from behind the scenes. Devious, innit?”

“Cheeky brat~” 

“Stop snoring at maybe I’ll let you be in charge again.” )


End file.
